The Rockets' Red Glare
by AJ Wesley
Summary: Set during season one. A roadside moment between two brothers.


The Rockets' Red Glare

By AJ Wesley

"Dean, stop the car!"

Dean jammed on the brakes, responding to his brother's urgent tone instantly, just as he'd done for most of his life. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam grab the dash to brace himself as the tires screeched across the asphalt, then ground to a halt in the gravel at the side of the lonely road.

Even as the Impala jerked to a halt, Dean was reaching under the seat for the 9mm he kept stashed there. Weapon in hand, he straightened and scanned the highway for any sign of what had alerted Sam. "What? What is it?" he panted, heart pounding wildly with the rush of adrenaline.

The passenger door was open, and Sam was climbing out.

"Sam, what the hell?" Dean threw open his own door, muttering a few more choice words as he got out and met his brother in front of the car—just in time to see his face light up. Seriously: Sam's face was bathed in a soft red glow, just for a moment. But in that moment, Dean saw the smile. Only a hint of one, but there just the same.

Turning to see what had enchanted his brother, Dean heard the distant _boom_. He watched for a moment, jaw crooked, as the next shower of color rained down over the treetops about a mile off the road. Then he turned and dork-slapped Sam. "You gave me a freakin' heart attack for _fireworks_?!"

Sam's head dropped forward, his shoulders hitching once. For a moment, Dean thought he had inadvertently hit a button, one of those random triggers that invoked a memory of Jessica and sent Sam careening down memory lane. Dean felt his stomach clench. But then his brother's head lifted, and Sam was looking at him sideways through a fringe of bangs, the smile sheepish as he shrugged. He looked all of fourteen again. God, Dean had missed this kid.

Bright orange blossomed in the sky, tiny spirals branching off to the sides. Several seconds later, the pops and whistles reached their ears, prompting another smile from Sam.

"Did you know it was the Fourth of July?" Sam asked, leaning back against the hood of the car.

"I barely know what month it is, man, let alone what day," Dean admitted. He watched the next volley, three in succession: red, white and blue.

When the light faded, Sam sighed. "Sorry. Guess this is kinda lame, huh?"

That was such an opening, Dean barely resisted. There was just…something in Sam's tone that stopped him. Not that he thought Sam would be upset; the kid had to know by now it was Dean's job as older brother to tease, provoke, and prod him at any given opportunity. But this…this called for a different tactic.

"Sam. What're fireworks?"

Sam's eyes narrowed in distrust. "Is that a trick question?"

Dean smirked. "Dude. Pyrotechnics." Which was Winchester for _No, Sam, it's not lame_.

Grinning as if he'd just been given permission to borrow the car for a date, Sam settled back against the front of the car to watch the show. Dean made his way back to the open driver's side door and returned the gun to its hideaway, then grabbed the keys from the ignition and headed for the trunk. Hey, if they were going to watch fireworks on the Fourth of July, they might as well do it right.

He popped the lid and pulled the cooler toward him, then dug inside the mostly melted ice for the few remaining bottles. A minute later, he was boosting himself up onto the hood and handing his brother a beer. Sam followed his lead and eased up beside him.

The rockets were being fired off one after the other now, the bright flashes heralding the boom that took longer to travel the distance. Dean popped off the cap and took a long pull. The cold beer felt good going down. It had been a hot day. So much so that they had both shed layers, deciding t-shirts and rolled-down windows were the way to go. The hood was still warm beneath him, but it made the beer all the more welcome.

It was actually…not too bad.

"You know…" Dean cleared his throat. "When I was about seven or eight, Dad gave me my first lesson on explosives after a fireworks display."

Sam's head turned toward him. "Yeah?"

Dean suddenly realized he had his brother's undivided attention. Sam was waiting for him to continue. He hadn't planned to, but… "Yeah. He taught me how they work. Even bought some and let me set them off. That was awesome. You probably don't remember, you were only three…or four. You just laughed when they did that whistle thing."

"I still like those."

"Yeah, you would, you big girl."

Sam laughed. "And I guess you like the ones that do nothing but explode and go boom."

"So?" Dean countered defensively.

Turning back to the fireworks, Sam huffed out another laugh.

"What?" Dean asked with mock annoyance.

Sam shook his head. He took a drink from his bottle before glancing back at Dean. "Thanks," he said.

He looked like he was about to say more, but Dean held up a staying hand.

"Yeah, I know. No chick-flick moments." Sam leaned his elbows on his thighs and watched the show. "Jerk," he mumbled.

Dean grinned, his job complete. "Happy Fourth of July, bro."

2


End file.
